Job Searching

Job searching has ignited an identity crisis within me.  It starts out fine, with a simple question of “what’s next?” and then before I know it I am questioning my own vision of myself.  So, it comes to no surprise that I am finding it extremely difficult to find a job that I believe fits to who I truly am. 

So, what do I want to do?

That is a question I have been playing around with lately.  As the job search rages on and I look forward to next year, I must ask myself what do I want to do?  Sometimes this question gets mixed up with, who do I want to be?  The second question is easier than the first.  I want to be a great daughter, sister, and friend.  I want to be a wonderful fiancée (and future wife!)  One day I even hope to be a loving mother.  I also want to be healthy, fit, happy, caring, and a resource to others.   However, when I think about what I want to do it’s a bit more open.  I want to continue to write and let my words touch others.  I want to help others reach a better part of themselves, through healthy living, self-confidence, and encouragement.  I want to teach yoga to anyone and everyone who is curious enough to step on their mat.  I want to interact with people, I want to feel productive and helpful.  I want to work more with my hands (and no, typing doesn’t count).  But where is a job description for that?  I haven’t found one.

I believe this identity confusion is a result of centuries of evolution into our modern day 9-5 work schedule.  Often we find ourselves defining who we are based on what we do.  This makes our job choice feel like a hugely powerful and defining decision.  It’s not entirely our fault, as we are conditioned to think like this.  It is totally normal for someone to ask, “what do you do?”   But if someone asked, “who are you?” we would back away slowly, with a confused look on our faces.  It was much easier when I was a student.  I could always respond with what I was studying at school or what I enjoyed doing with my free time.  I was always just me--a wide-eyed college student studying ideas, thoughts, words, and actions.  I was a proud student of life.  At that point in my own life, it was impossible to separate what I did Monday through Friday with who I was as a person—they were intimately connected.

But as I grow up (*sigh*) and get farther from the physical classroom, there is a greater struggle to define who I am and what I do.   This evolution is natural and it’s all part of our journey.   So whether I hate it or not, I must face it.  Inevitably, those first questions about doing and being lead to the big question, what do I really want?  I’ve always known that I never wanted to be the person who is miserable from 9am to 5pm and then lives for the weekends.  That would feel like a life too rushed, segmented, and ultimately disconnected.   “There is more to life than increasing its speed,” Gandhi.    

For me, I must be mindful in my movements, but I cannot get bogged down anticipating the next step.  While practicing yoga, you cannot force or rush through the transitions from one asana to the next.  If you do, you risk getting hurt.  Therefore, I must be patient and yet determined to find a job that I believe in, that I am passionate about, and is in line with my values.  Working for a greater purpose.   

In order to work for a greater purpose, we must find a purpose from within.  Perhaps that purpose is providing for a family, perhaps its helping others in need, maybe it is buying a house of our own.  Whatever that purpose is, it is yours.  It is who you are and your reason for doing that can define you—not your job title.

So, as I work through finding a way to make an income, I must always remember my current job: a lifelong student of living. 

To all the Mothers

This is a belated (but much needed) dedication to all the mothers of the world.   As all of us know, on May 8^th the United States became unites to celebrate all of our mothers.  This year on Mother’s Day, we had our mothers over for a delicious homemade brunch, mimosas, and lots of catching up.  In the past Mother’s Day has meant a lot of different things.  When we were younger, it meant bringing mom breakfast in bed (burnt toast and all).  We giggled and bounced on the bed while Mom pretended to enjoy her breakfast.  Then there were the years of flowers, homemade cards, and pancakes.   My sister and I had a knack for making lots and lots of crafts.  However, soon we became less cute and Mother’s Day became “Do-as-I-say-or-leave-me-alone” Mother’s Day.   (Looking back on it—totally justified).  As I teen, it was all I could do to remember a card and purchase a gift card.  Its sad to say, but I even began to believe that Mother’s Day was simply a Hallmark money-maker holiday and I was tempted to rebel.

But the truth is, mothers’ rock.  They put up with so much and ask for so little.  They build you up when you are down, tell you what you need to hear to press on.  My mother is one of the strongest people I know.  No matter she may be going through, she will always take care of me first.  I love my mother so much and this year, nothing I could do was going to be able to show her that completely. 

Maybe it about getting older and moving out, or maybe its about becoming wiser and more humble, but I respect my mother more now that I think I ever have.  She gives her all to everything she does and never sees a barrier to a brighter future.   In her free time, she will learn everything about anything.  Once after finding a strange cocoon, she researched it, protected it, and after some weeks she watched as the cocoon cracked open to reveal the most amazing polyphemous moth.  She had actually gotten a group of people interested in what this thing would become.  The students at Princeton University even named it.  So at first when everyone else was willing to just ignore or toss this cocoon, she saw potential for what could be.  

I think that is what is so wonderful about mothers.  When we come out into the world, we are nothing but screaming, pooping, crying blobs.  But they love us instantly!  A mother can see you for who you truly are and what you can become way before you do.   Even during our terrible two’s and terrifying teens, our mothers can see our potential to be great. 

So give thanks, as we only get one true mother.  Love you mom!

This is good, like something you really like to eat.

One thing I love is looking at something in a different way.  Its more than just being the devil's advocate every once in awhile; its about being able to see something as more than just what we think first.  In yoga,  we practice seeing something for what it is, which is not always easy to define.  For instance, when I put on a band-aid the wrapper is nothing but garbage, but to my cat Baxter its a brand new toy.  In another example, a spider to me is a scary, gross pest.  Yet in some cultures, spiders are a delicacy.  So nothing is just as is seems, as it is always so much more.


In work, you may encounter a similar situation.  You see something one ways, but your co-workers or boss see it an entirely different way.  You are all right, all wrong.  All eye-witnesses see a different crime.  While it may not seem so, it is truly an amazing thing!


Being an avid reader and writer, it's no surprise that I love seeing people write with this kind of open mind. Seeing one thing as being described in many ways.  So, I was glad to receive this email from a dear friend, which highlighted funny metaphors from high schoolers across the country.  Smile and ENJOY!

Every year, English teachers from across the country can submit their
collections of actual analogies and metaphors found in high school
essays.  These excerpts are published each year to the amusement of
teachers across the country.

Here are last year's winners.....

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up. 

This is good, like something you really like to eat.

One thing I love is looking at something in a different way.  Its more than just being the devil's advocate every once in awhile; its about being able to see something as more than just what we think first.  In yoga,  we practice seeing something for what it is, which is not always easy to define.  For instance, when I put on a band-aid the wrapper is nothing but garbage, but to my cat Baxter its a brand new toy.  In another example, a spider to me is a scary, gross pest.  Yet in some cultures, spiders are a delicacy.  So nothing is just as is seems, as it is always so much more.


In work, you may encounter a similar situation.  You see something one ways, but your co-workers or boss see it an entirely different way.  You are all right, all wrong.  All eye-witnesses see a different crime.  While it may not seem so, it is truly an amazing thing!


Being an avid reader and writer, it's no surprise that I love seeing people write with this kind of open mind. Seeing one thing as being described in many ways.  So, I was glad to receive this email from a dear friend, which highlighted funny metaphors from high schoolers across the country.  Smile and ENJOY!

Every year, English teachers from across the country can submit their
collections of actual analogies and metaphors found in high school
essays.  These excerpts are published each year to the amusement of
teachers across the country.

Here are last year's winners.....

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

Learning to Breathe

As I should have expected, I overworked myself.  During Easter weekend, I ran a fast-paced 5k (not usual), weight-lifting, yoga, 4 hours of cleaning, 4 hours of driving on Saturday alone, 2 hours of walking, tennis, and more yoga.  When I wasn't wearing my sneakers, I spent the rest of the week and weekend in heels.  Needless to say, by dinner on Sunday my back had gone into a spasm and my left hip was visibly raised above my right.  Spine was totally crooked.  It then stayed like that the rest of the week.  Ouch!

This is obviously not me, as I am clearly a lady.

Why?  Well first off, I refused to believe I had gone too far, done too much.  If anything, I knew I had about 6 hours of day light somewhere in there that was spent inside sitting on the couch, which to me is a failure.  But despite my back injury I did not want to rest physically and I could not rest mentally.  I barely slept, as my mind raced to thoughts on my job and all its frustrations, the wedding, my health, and anything else shiny.   It wasn't until Friday that I realized that my mind and my body both needed a rest.  My body was rebelling against my get-up-and-go attitude.  I could hardly relax.  My muscles were clamped, constricted, and swollen.  My spine was stiff and sore, with little mobility.  What I believe made it worse was that my mind would not let go of my own frustration and struggle.  I harped at the fact that I could barely bend from side-to-side and I resented my ever-present pain.  Breathing alone was provoking.

Our breath is undeniably important, primarily to maintain our existence and secondly to maintain our quality of living while we exist.  (Not to mention if it’s stinky, it can affect our social life as well!)  In yoga I always cue the breath, as bringing attention to our breathing is critical to an effective practice.  Our body actually evolves during our exhales.  Tension leaves the body as we let air go, allowing our muscles and joints to simply sink deeper into our asana (Asana means pose).  Often during an exhale I will get some cracks, maybe some pops, but mostly I can physically feel the release of tension in my body.  To me, there is nothing more therapeutic than a long, deep exhale when I am struggling in my asana.  During an inhale I can find the energy to acknowledge the struggle; exhale I let it go.  The same is true off the mat.  Breathing affects our physical, mental, and emotional beings all equally.  Just notice how you breathe when you are upset or crying verses how you breathe when you are happy, calm, and relaxed. 

So when I hurt my back I need to remember balance once again, the dichotomy of taking a breath in and then letting that breath go.  I could not move or exercise how I normally would, so my mind and body was hoarding energy.  Encouraging the stress, I just kept working even though deep down I knew I needed a rest.  Finally on Friday, as my fiancé and I took a long and slow walk I said aloud, “I think my body was telling me to slow down, stop thinking so much, and just let all this nonsense go.”  Within hours of me just verbalizing that, I could feel my back loosen.  By Sunday, I was practicing yoga again.  This time I focused on nothing in the room, nothing in the world, except each breath I took in.  And I followed that breath as I willingly let it go.